


A Baker Street Christmas

by storiesofchaos



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baby Rosie, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas at 221B Baker Street, Domestic Life at 221B Baker Street, Dorks in Love, Finally a good Christmas for Sherlock yeesh, Fluff, Gen, Literally so fluffy, M/M, Parent!lock, Sherlock is a Good Parent, john is also a good parent, rosie is very lucky, sherlock being a cute idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesofchaos/pseuds/storiesofchaos
Summary: John couldn’t contain his grin as he looked at his wonderful, talented Sherlock making music and his lovely, beautiful daughter playing with her new honey bee toy, and he felt full to bursting with his love for them. Them, all together at Baker Street. His family.





	A Baker Street Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is so fluffy that I can barely recognize the characters after the angst of season 4!
> 
> Merry Christmas. :)

Snow had come to Baker Street. John stood at the window of 221B, looking out at the fluffy flakes sailing their way down to the London streets. He was glad they were finally having a white Christmas, and this definitely put him in a better mood.

It was his first Christmas back at Baker Street, and it was Rosie’s first Christmas here at all. He hoped they would finally have a normal (well, as normal as you can get living with what he got as a flatmate) Christmas, not just for Rosie but for Sherlock as well. With everything he had gone through, John wanted something special for his best friend.

He turned away from the window and surveyed the flat, smiling when he saw it. Sherlock had suddenly gone into full Christmas mood this year, and John was surprised, but knew it was probably for Rosie’s sake. They had a full tree in the corner festooned with baubles and ribbon, stockings on the mantle, paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and Christmas lights on every surface he could think of. John had just barely been able to wrangle the holiday scented candles from Sherlock that he was about to place on every empty space he could find because A: the baby and B: John didn’t trust Sherlock and fire. Sherlock had even made Rosie finger paint some cards to send to people, which was a whole ordeal in itself. The idea made John melt a little inside, but when he came home to Sherlock, Rosie, and the floor covered in paint he wasn’t too keen on that happening ever again.

Sherlock and Rosie themselves were over on the sitting room couch, reading The Night Before Christmas that John had exchanged with the chemistry textbook he had been reading to Rosie before. Sherlock had begrudgingly received it, although he looked quite happy now, reading in his voice that John thought was absolutely perfect for reading stories with and Rosie tucked into his side, enraptured.

It was Christmas Eve, and already past Rosie’s bedtime, John realized with a jolt. Sherlock finally finished the tale and John carried a half-asleep Rosie to the bedroom upstairs. He could hear Sherlock starting to play a Christmas tune on his violin, serenading the little girl off to sleep.

John also fell asleep to Sherlock’s music, but he couldn’t think of a better way to do it.

 

\--

 

The cold morning sun shone through his bedroom window as John woke on Christmas morning. Rosie stood patiently at the side of her crib, babbling happily.

“Good morning, dear heart,” he told her, kissing her on the cheek as he picked her up and took her to the window to watch the snow fall. After putting on a robe he took Rosie downstairs to open presents. He had gotten her a few of course, and for Sherlock as well, but when he saw the tree and what was underneath it he was astonished.

To his surprise (although he shouldn’t ever be surprised anymore), there were more presents than he remembered there being last night and setting Rosie down she immediately clambered over to investigate. John then noticed that Sherlock had apparently fallen asleep in John’s chair, violin still in his lap. With the noise that Rosie was excitedly making he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at her, Rosie clapping her hands when she realized he had noticed her.

Sherlock immediately sprang up and went to the kitchen, turning the teapot on to boil some water. John was even more confused, but let him be. It wasn’t every day that Sherlock did things for you without asking.

Handing a mug of tea to John and a sippy cup of juice to Rosie, Sherlock said, “Presents?” He looked even more excited than Rosie.

“Yeah, sure,” John replied, “Want to open gifts, Rosie?”

With that, they let Rosie open all of her presents. She got various toys and clothes from John, books from Molly, plushies from Mrs Hudson, tiny boots from Lestrade, and even a honey bee rattle from Mycroft. The last one left happened to be from Sherlock, and when John raised an eyebrow at him in question, Sherlock just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. The gift happened to be a small version of Sherlock’s own coat, custom-made John presumed. Putting it on Rosie, she looked just like a little Sherlock. John thought this was quite self-indulgent of the detective but he was so fond of the gesture and of how adorable Rosie looked in it.

John made Sherlock open his gifts next. He got some nice items from his family and friends (excluding the cheesy holiday tie from Mrs Hudson, although John knew he appreciated the gesture), but John was holding his breath when Sherlock got to the presents he had picked out for him. The first was a set of chemistry books he had wanted which he gladly thanked him for, but the next confused him for a second. It was a pirate hat, with a gold feather sticking out of it. Sherlock then snorted, actually _snorted_ and immediately put it on his still-bedraggled curls. John was so relieved that he joined in with some laughter of his own.

“It looks really good, actually,” John managed to get out after heavy bouts of laughter from both sides.

“Of course,” Sherlock responded haughtily, “I look good in everything.” Sherlock kept it on for the rest of the day, and whenever John saw him with his fancy pirate hat and Rosie with her miniature coat he fell in love with his little family just a little more.

Sherlock then pulled out something from behind the tree. It looked like a thick book and when he set it down in front of John he seemed a bit nervous.

“Here’s your present, John,” he said quietly and John realized it was a scrapbook. “It’s not very good and I had to get lots of help from Mrs Hudson because why would I ever have made one before now and-”

“Sherlock. It’s lovely,” John cut in. And it was, he turned the pages and found pictures of all his friends at various gatherings, like that one Christmas party that Sherlock nearly ruined, and Rosie’s baptism, and even just photos from around the flat that he didn’t know existed. Plus of course, some from crime scenes.

But his favorite photo was at the very end. It was from his and Mary’s wedding, a photo of the two plus Sherlock. “Look,” he said, showing the photograph to Rosie, “Our whole family is in this picture. Even you,” he said, pointing at Mary’s stomach.

He looked back up at Sherlock to thank him, but the latter was already staring at him, staring at him with so much emotion- fear and sadness, but most of all was _happiness._

“Thankyou, this is the most wonderful thing I could ask for,” John said, scooting over to where Sherlock sat on the floor and hugging him tightly. He didn’t do that nearly enough. When he pulled back he risked a quick kiss to Sherlock’s forehead whose cheeks instantly bloomed in a blush.

“So you like it?” Sherlock asked with still a bit of trepidation in his voice.

“Like-? Sherlock, I absolutely love it!” John laughed. “And I think Rosie does too,” he nodded his head to where Rosie was talking to the last photograph happily. This made Sherlock smile.

“I was just worried because we never have a good Christmas here and I know how you’re sentimental and such.”

“Sherlock, if I’m with you and Rosie at Baker Street, that is the best gift I could ask for, and the best Christmas too.” This appeased Sherlock’s worries quite a lot, and he quickly made to stand before John would catch his even deeper blush and of how happy this made him. He lifted his violin from the chair and started playing some more Christmas songs, walking over to the windows covered in frost as he did so.

John couldn’t contain his grin as he looked at his wonderful, talented Sherlock making music and his lovely, beautiful daughter playing with her new honey bee toy, and he felt full to bursting with his love for them. Them, all together at Baker Street. _His family._

And as he got up to make some toast for breakfast and Mrs Hudson pottered in to visit, he wondered for once if it couldn’t get any better.


End file.
